


a chance to breathe

by mixtapestar



Series: if one thing had been different [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Eliot Waugh's Canonically Huge Dick, Getting Together, M/M, Quentin Coldwater's Canonical Oral Fixation, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: Quentin kills Ember, saving the day. "Saving the world." Only now he can't sleep. Luckily, Eliot is there.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: if one thing had been different [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973089
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	a chance to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> For Comfortween Day 15: Lullaby and Goodnight.
> 
> Season 2 is a hell of a thing to work around, but this was a fun canon divergence. I'd recommend reading Part 1 of 'if one thing had been different' first.

When Eliot finds him, Quentin is standing in the doorway, staring into the empty throne room and nursing a mug of warm mead.

"Couldn't sleep either, hm?" Eliot says, tossing an arm around Quentin's shoulders.

Quentin leans back into Eliot's hold. "Today doesn't really feel real."

"You killed a god today." Eliot pulls him closer, up against his chest so that he can loop his arm further around Quentin, his hand resting on his collarbone. He speaks softly against the back of Quentin's ear, "Kinda proved my point about not being weak."

Quentin's mind flashes back to that night in Eliot's room, all those months ago, when Eliot had just recovered from being murdered in the golem's body. Before Quentin had to give up the button, before Eliot's new engagement, before bringing Alice back and all the mess that came with that. If the lights hadn't gone out that night, if Margo hadn't returned right at that moment, if Quentin hadn't chickened out… would it have changed anything? "You… remember that night?" Quentin asks tentatively.

"I've dealt with a lot of cursed timing in my life. That night was definitely top five."

"Oh." Does Eliot mean…?

"So, fun fact. I'm officially free of my Fillorian marriage contract."

Quentin's pulse speeds up at the implication. "Yeah?" he asks, just for something to say. 

"Yep. Idri helped me confirm it."

Something ugly and jealous twists in Quentin's chest. He's grateful that Eliot can't see his face. "Oh. So you hooked up with Idri." He tries to go for nonchalant, but probably fails.

Eliot is quiet for a moment. "Actually, I stopped him before we got that far. But it was far enough to know that the curse has been lifted."

There's a roaring in Quentin's ears, keeping him from settling on one thought, so he deflects. With a snort, he says, "It wasn't technically a curse."

"Easy for you to say." Quentin downs the rest of his mead. He needs to be more drunk for this conversation. Unfortunately, getting a refill means pulling out of Eliot's embrace and finding his way back to the kitchens. "That particular bit of magic kept me from going for a lot of things I wanted in the past year."

Quentin inhales sharply. The warm rumble of Eliot's voice against his ear is going straight to his cock. He either needs to clear this up or bail, and fast. "And now?"

Eliot winds his other arm around Quentin's stomach, pulling him that much closer against his body. "Now I'm free to be with whoever I choose."

"Eliot," Quentin says, his brows drawing together, a bit of a whine in his voice. If he's wrong about this, if he's misunderstood…

Eliot presses a kiss behind Quentin's ear. "Q." His voice is a whisper floating into Quentin's ear and spreading out to warm his entire body. "If I've got the wrong idea, you should probably say something now."

"No, um, def-definitely not." Oh god, is this really happening? He turns around in Eliot's hold, and Eliot looks— _god_ , as turned on as Quentin feels. Eliot parts his lips, and this time Quentin doesn't hesitate. He pushes up on his toes and kisses Eliot with all the desire he's been holding back, either from insecurities or bad timing.

Eliot _whimpers_ against his mouth, pressing into the kiss and wrapping his arms fully around Quentin's middle, practically lifting him up. When Eliot pulls away, several long moments later, he's short of breath. "I want you. And even though the High King of Fillory can get away with just about anything, I'd prefer for our first time to be somewhere a little less public. To my bedroom?"

"Yeah," Quentin says, also breathing heavily. Eliot _wants_ him. Eliot just discovered his newfound sexual freedom, and he wants to explore it with _Quentin_ , even when he could've had Idri, almost _had_ Idri already from the sounds of it.

They make their way eagerly through the halls of the castle, Quentin letting Eliot tow him along by his hand. As soon as they make it to Eliot's room and close the door, Eliot pins Quentin against it, licking back inside his mouth and pressing a leg between Quentin's.

And _fuck_ if that friction isn't glorious. Quentin grabs onto Eliot's arms and ruts up against him, letting Eliot feel how hard he is, and with a shift, he feels a similar hardness pressed up against his hip. Quentin breaks out of the kiss audibly, grabbing at the high waist of Eliot's pants. "I want to see you."

"By all means," Eliot says, smirking. "I just hope you'll return the favor." Quentin pushes him back toward the bed as he makes quick work of stripping them both with Eliot's help. Before long he's got Eliot spread out before him on the mattress while he joins him, kneeling between his legs.

Quentin drinks in the sight of him, the long lines of his body, the perfect V of his hips leading to the beautiful curve of his cock, tilting up against his belly. Quentin finds his mouth watering.

"God, Q, you're beautiful," Eliot says, and it takes a moment for Quentin to process the words.

"That's my line," he says, and Eliot laughs. "I— _fuck_ , El, I want to do everything with you."

He's met with a fiery expression from Eliot that makes his cock twitch. "Well, lucky for us, you saved the world today, so we've got time."

That's all Quentin needs to dive in, to settle his weight over Eliot's body and resume kissing him in earnest. Eliot spans a hand over his hip and another across his back, and then suddenly he's rolling them over.

"I wanna taste you," Eliot says, reaching down to fist Quentin's cock.

"Fuck," Quentin says, tilting his hips up. Eliot raises his eyebrows; a silent question. " _Yeah_ , yes. I… want that, too."

With the first touch of Eliot's tongue on him, what little cool Quentin has maintained so far goes out the window. In between whines and pants of breath, Quentin rambles on about how long he's thought about this, how many times he almost said something, exactly how Eliot's mouth is exceeding the expectations from his fantasies. He's embarrassing himself, but he also can't stop.

Eventually, he falls incoherent, twisting his fingers through Eliot's hair and losing himself in the wet heat of Eliot's mouth as he sucks him down so skillfully. "Fuck, gonna come—" he gasps out, and Eliot grips his hips and takes him in until he shoots down Eliot's throat. " _God_ , that's good," he says as Eliot pulls off, but continues to pump over his length, sending aftershocks of pleasure through his body.

At Quentin's encouragement, Eliot moves back up to kiss him. Eventually, Quentin pushes on Eliot's shoulder, urging him to get on his back. Eliot just made him feel amazing, and he desperately wants to reciprocate.

"So, full disclosure, um," Quentin starts, settling on top of Eliot again, "I've only done this twice before, and once was when we were drunk on wine and bottled emotions, so. Just, I guess, tell me if I do something you don't like?"

Eliot takes his hand. "Pretty sure whatever you do to me will feel incredible, because it's you doing it—" Quentin flushes. "—but I'll keep it in mind. Don't be afraid to use your hands," Eliot says, performing the lubrication spell over Quentin's wrist to gather liquid into his palm.

 _As if I have a choic_ e, Quentin thinks, moving down and studying the ridiculous length of him. How good is it gonna feel, one day soon, to have that long, hard cock inside of him? Quentin's breath hitches at the thought.

He slides his slick fingers slowly over the length of Eliot's dick, getting him nice and wet before he moves in with his mouth. He laps at the slit, tasting Eliot and relishing in the gasp that pulls from him, before exploring further, sliding his tongue down the underside of Eliot's cock and back up to pull the head into his mouth.

He tries not to get too ambitious; gagging is not sexy. But he's had Eliot's cock in his mouth for all of five seconds and he just wants to be full of him. Still, he remembers Eliot's advice, and wraps his fingers around his cock, giving himself a barrier to how much he can attempt to take in. On his first attempt to move off, he has to be careful of his teeth, but then he shifts a little and finds a better angle and starts to work up a proper rhythm.

He knows it's getting good when Eliot jerks a little and fists his hands in the sheets. "Fuck, your fucking _mouth_ , Q. You have no idea, do you, what your words were doing to me? Fucking, telling me about your fantasies while I swallowed around you, _god_."

 _Oh_. Quentin had fully accepted that he'd feel humiliated about his rambling later, but if Eliot _likes_ it, well. He could work with that.

"Feels—so good, Q, I don't know why—I mean, you had no reason to be nervous, _fuck_." Quentin moans around Eliot's cock at that, a feeling of satisfaction spreading through him at the praise.

Eliot's orgasm catches both of them by surprise, and Quentin pulls off before he means to, Eliot's come striping over his cheek.

" _Shit_ , sorry," Eliot says, gasping and pushing up into Quentin's fist. Quentin jerks him through it, his tongue darting out to lick Eliot's come from his face. Eliot catches the movement and shudders, mumbling something unbelievable about Quentin being gorgeous. "That was extremely rude of me, I'm sorry," Eliot says once he's got his breath back. He works his fingers in a tut that cleans both his chest and Quentin's face. "Would you believe me if I said you entirely overwhelmed me?"

"You could've left it," he says, and then catches up with the rest of Eliot's words. "Really? _I_ was able to overwhelm _the_ Eliot Waugh?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Q. You turn me on on a normal day. I didn't exactly anticipate this when I woke up this morning."

Quentin barks out a laugh. "Me neither." _God_ , is this what it's gonna be like now? Eliot talking about Quentin turning him on like it's _no big deal_? Quentin may never survive.

As Eliot kisses him, plays with his hair, pulls him snug against his back, Quentin realizes his mind is much quieter than when he was looking into the throne room. He thinks he might have better luck sleeping, now.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! <3


End file.
